Right, Alec thought, this is fine. This is totally…. Magnus took off his shirt. Fine.

Magnus carefully releases the tight hold he has over his self-control and lets himself just feel. He lets go of Alec’s back, splaying his arms wide on the ground. He digs his fingers into the dirt, connecting to the earth. It hits him like a sledgehammer and he gasps. It’s a frantic sort of gasp, the kind that makes Alec stop and look at him. “Magnus?” Alec asks, searching the warlock’s face for any sign of things going bad. Magnus’ eyes are free of their glamour but they are… different. Still cat-like, but more green than gold, shining with magic and power hiding behind them.

Alec would have thought that asking for things would get easier in time, and it has—it’s so much easier now—but it’s still not easy. “Could you keep my hands there?” Alec presses his hands deeper into the mattress to point out what he means. “With your magic, I mean.” Magnus arches his brow. “I didn’t know you were into bondage.” Technically Alec doesn't know that yet either, but he's very willing to find out. “I’m into you,” he says. “And your magic.”

Alec doesn’t know what he’s doing. He knows that Magnus knows he doesn’t know, which kind of makes it better — there’s no expectations, just the smile on Magnus’s lips when Alec surges forwards to kiss him — but somehow it makes it worse as well, because he’s following his instincts and his instincts, apparently, involve letting Magnus do anything to him. And, okay, that idea is unfairly hot (there is nothing Alec wouldn’t give to have Magnus pin him down and just take, but his boyfriend is far too nice and too conscious of Alec’s apparently soon-to-be-gone virgin status to even try to) and unfairly unattainable, but Alec’s first response to being pushed onto Magnus’s bed is still to get his wrists up.